Transformers: The Real Story
by Kitty1994
Summary: The story behind the Transformers live action movie! Experience the craziness of our favorite robots, and how the cast and crew came to meet them.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is a fic that me and my friend MaxDOwt are working on. She doesn't have an account here, and gave permission to post it here. We will take turns writing chapters. This is all her!

Transformers belongs to it's respective owners. We own NOTHING. D:

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Optimus Prime looked over at Megatron, who was sitting next to him. The large room they were in was silent, which was an odd thing for usually the concrete floors and high ceiling made noises bounce off the walls in a cacophony of sounds. A couple of minutes of silence went by. Swindle finally spoke up. "I can understand why you wouldn't want to, but, seriously? Come on! Don't act like we don't need the money, and trust me, if this kicks off the way I plan for it to, we'll have more than enough." Starscream did the Cybertronian equivalent of an eye roll. "Swindle, do you remember what happened last time we went through with one of your stupid plans?" "Hey now," Swindle cried out defensively, "How was I supposed to know those insane aliens would be so intrigued by livestock?" He turned to the leaders of the Cybertronians. "And since you won't let us print our own human money, we're forced to earn it by going through human mediators."

Optimus put his head into his right hand and used his left to gesture. "Swindle, we don't want too many humans to know of our existence. Do you remember what happened at Roswell? Just be happy those Area 51 people cleared everything up with the Ultarions, or as you call them 'insane aliens.'" "Most humans won't suspect a thing!" Swindle said loudly, his voice bouncing annoyingly in the large room. "Plus, we can get more land and build a better place to hold meetings than an old airplane hangar." Megatron spoke up, sounding slightly irritated. "Might I remind you who thought it would be a good idea to buy an airplane hangar in the first place?" He turned to his right and spoke to Optimus in a low voice. "He does have a point though. With all of the Cybertronians here, it is quite crowded. And more keep coming in. Plus, the human neighbors are becoming suspicious. We'll need to, as you call it, 'roll out' soon. That will mean we'll need more money to buy land off of these pathetic creatures, which, let's face it, we don't have."

The room was silent again; save for a faint noise of the other two parts of Starscream's trine arriving. "Sorry," Thundercracker said apologetically, "Skywarp had some problems with his teleporter and…" he trailed off as he noticed his voice was the only one in the room. "Did we miss something?" Jazz spoke up. "Swindle's planning another scheme and he's expecting us to go along with it." Swindle turned to the two newcomers and put on his 'salesman' voice. "Imagine this, a dark screen, then, Optimus Prime's voice saying all deep and mysterious-like, 'before time began, there was, the cube…" The others listened with faintly annoyed expressions as he repeated his spiel. "In this new universe, we are still at war, Autobots against Decepticons, Cybertron is in ruins, and…we don't look like giant boxes." He finished his speech with a flourish. Skywarp let out a whoop, turned to his left where Thundercracker was standing, and held out his hand for a high five. Thundercracker glared. "Don't think you got off that easy, Skywarp. I still had to fly half way across the world to save you from humans who were firing sabot rounds at you, only to find out you blew up whatever operation they had going over a ball of…" He turned to his right and further exaggerated the absurd situation, "A. Bunch. Of. Tin. Foil!"

After a time, Prowl stood up. He spoke as if the last conversation had never taken place "Listen, as much as I hate to admit it, Swindle's kind of right. We need the money. And if this new movie is as great as he makes it sound, we could have enough to buy what we need to keep the humans from detecting us." Optimus turned to Megatron. "Well, comrade, it's up to you." Megatron began to pace back and forth as he contemplated this huge decision. "By making a 'movie,' we will also be creating a large fan basis that will be even more obsessed than the last group…" He trailed off.

Starscream picked up energetically. "We will have to make another deal with Hasbro, and possibly ask that director fellow, what's his name…? Oh, Michael Bay, to come and direct. Having a well known human do the directing will make it seem more professional, even if he doesn't have to do anything. That's incorporating at least 10 people in this. Also, we'll need actors. Not just small timers or holograms either. Hey, what about that kid from the Even Stevens? He looks a lot like Spike at his age. And that Megan Fox chick will generate male interest indefinitely…" He continued on as the others listened in amusement. Optimus stood up and announced loudly enough to break Starscream out of his revelry, "It's settled then. We shall make a movie. Hound, set up your holograph equipment, and Blackout, get the cameras. Cybertronians, get rolling!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2! My turn! Also, you can find MaxDOwt on Deviant Art by the same name, where we are also posting the chapters. Enjoy!

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The morning was bright and sunny. Michael Bay stretched luxuriously and snuggled further under his bed's sheets, before a whine caused him to crack an eye open. There, at the foot of his bed, was his dog, Bonecrusher, who looked at him with sad puppy eyes before whining again. Michael sighed before sliding out of bed to let the now energetically bouncing dog outside.

Now resigned to being awake, he wandered into his kitchen for some breakfast. Right as he was opening his fridge for some milk, his phone rang. Raising an eyebrow and muttering a quizzical 'huh?' to himself, he slouched over to his cheerily ringing phone and glanced at the caller I.D.

"What in the world could Hasbro want this early?" Now suspicious, he tentatively answered. "Hello?" A strangely scratchy voice answered him. "This is the human 'Michael Bay', correct?" Michael frowned, now convinced that this was a prank call. He cradled the phone in the crook of his shoulder as he let Bonecrusher back inside.

"Alright, you stupid kids, I don't know how you got this number but- BONECRUSHER! Don't chew on that!" Bonecrusher looked up innocently from where he had been chewing on one of Michael's shoes.

The voice turned incredulous. "Bonecrusher? What do you mean, he can't possibly be there- Bonecrusher! Where are you?" An angry "WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU MEAN WHERE AM I? I'M OVER HERE REPAIRING YOUR PRIMUS-FORSAKEN TRINE-MATE! WHO I **HATE**, BY THE WAY!" was heard in the background, followed by a surprised "Whoa! Don't bring me into this! T.C., HELP!", which soon devolved into unintelligible bickering.

Michael held the now noise-filled ear piece away from him, staring at it incredulously. After a few seconds he pressed 'End Call', and set the phone back down on it's stand. He shook his head and started back to the kitchen, but hadn't even gone two steps before the phone rang again. He briefly considered letting it ring, but soon sighed and walked to answer it.

He took a deep breath before he put it to his ear. "Hello?" This time a overly friendly, cheerful voice answered him. "Mr. Bay! I'm sorry about that last call, my associate isn't very approachable." A venomous "Excuse me?" in that same scratchy voice from earlier could be heard in the background. The new speaker ignored it and continued into what sounded like a sales pitch.

"Mikey, can I call you Mikey?" He opened his mouth to reply, but the voice continued without pausing. "You see my- _company_ and I are in need of a man with your unique talents! We're making a film, and we'd like you to direct! It's going to be a blockbuster, you'll love the script! We already have all the backing you'll need, and all your expenses will be completely covered!"

Michael blinked in astonishment. Surely this was a joke. "You're serious?" he questioned. "Completely!" the voice replied cheerily. He was almost afraid to ask this next question. "What's it about?" At this the phone went quiet for a few moments. "Well, if I could direct you to look outside into your backyard-" "What? Why do I need to look in my backyard?" A sigh could be heard.

"Mr. Bay, if you would please just look outside?" Michael was hesitant but walked to his backdoor and peered out his window, and then promptly freaked out. "WHAT IS THAT **THING** IN MY BACKYARD?" he shrilled. "_That_ is the Buffalo Mine Protected Vehicle, commonly used by your United States Military! However if you'll watch for just a few more moments-"

When parts of the Buffalo started shifting, Michael had already come outside in an attempt to figure out just what was going on. He could only watch is surprise, fascination, and some fear as the already large vehicle rearranged itself into an even larger robot. Bonecrusher, who had snuck outside after him, bounded up the colossus and barked happily at it. It glared down angrily at the canine and growled. Bonecrusher didn't seem to mind and sat obediently at it's feet.

Michael was suddenly aware that the arm holding the phone had dropped to his side and that there was noise coming from it. He raised it to his ear and intelligently replied. "Huh?" The voice on the other end chuckled before it began. "That, Mikey, is Bonecrusher! We are a race of autonomous mechanical beings from Cybertron, a planet so far from here that even your most powerful telescopes couldn't see it."

He furrowed his brow. "Wait, you mean like the old cartoon? You're _serious?_" What was he saying? Of course they were serious! There was the giant alien robot- the _Decepticon_- that he had named his dog after! Said Decepticon grumbled to himself. "...Hate dogs..." His dog just wagged his tail and panted happily, nonplussed by namesake's hatred.


End file.
